Harry Potter and the River of El
by MadScribbler
Summary: This is a short one-shot sequel to Harry Potter and the Sword of Sethrael. A longer sequel is in the works and will be published shortly.


**Harry Potter and the River of El**

**Author's note:** "Harry Potter and the River of El" is a one-shot sequel to "Harry Potter and the Sword of Sethrael." If you have not read that story, this one will make absolutely no sense. It is an AU and a fantasy loosely based on J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series. This story is very short, but there is also a sequel to the River of El in the works called "Harry Potter and the Elvin King" which will be several chapters. The first chapter of that story will be ready to post shortly.

**Warning:** There may be a tiny bit of a sap factor contained in The River of El. If sappiness offends you, please do not read. If you read it anyway, please refrain from complaining. You were warned. The author takes no responsibility for anyone who falls into a diabetic coma while reading this story.

**Disclaimer:** "Harry Potter and The Sword of Sethrael", "Harry Potter and the River of El," and "Harry Potter and the Elvin King" contain characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc. and AOL/Time Warner, Inc., and may incorporate characters, locations and things created and/or owned by other third parties including but not limited to Joss Whedon, George Lucas and/or Lucasfilm, Fox, Paramount, Random House, Penguin Putnam, Inc., and Ballantine Books. No permission has been given and, since no money is being made here, no infringement is intended. Section 102(b) of the U.S. Copyright Act makes it clear that copyright protection does not extend to ideas, procedures, concepts, principles or discoveries – only the actual words used to express those things.

**And, finally, the story.**

**Harry Potter and the River of El**

_Voldemort hesitated, watching the children who were singing. His parents waited for him outside the path. Harry went to him. "Come, I will walk with you, Tom."_

_Slowly, they started walking down the path toward the river, Tom and Harry inside the herbs and Tom's parents outside. The children continued to sing. Soon, the other Elves picked up the song and began to follow them down the path._

**(Break)**

When Tom Riddle was a small boy at the orphanage, Mrs. Cole occasionally took the children to the theatre. He had seen an American film when he was seven, which featured a ceremony called baptism. The people were dressed in white robes, standing at the edge of a river singing a song about the Water of Life. "Whoever drinks this water will never die," they sang as, one by one, people entered the water and were submerged by the leader. When they emerged, they raised their hands and began to sing or shout with joy. He wondered what kind of magical properties the water held and where it might be located. One day, he would find that river, get baptized, and then he would live forever.

When he grew up, his dreams of finding the river vanished with the realization that baptism was a religious ceremony and The Water of Life was a myth only believed by ignorant muggles. Now, standing beside this river, he knew that he had found it, but the water would wash away everything that he was. For him, it was the River of Death.

Death was the only thing he had ever feared. And yet, here were his parents. He had been the cause of both their deaths, yet here they were, alive and well, happy even. They both looked so young. This is what he had been afraid of all his life?

Finally, he understood. Living forever didn't mean never dying, for only by dying could one conquer death. Dumbledore used to say, "Death is the next great adventure." But there would be no adventure for him. By trying to avoid death, he had caused his own destruction. It was as the elf Mithrael had said the night he had tried to possess him. There was only evil in him. He would be completely destroyed in these waters.

He hesitated at the edge of the river and looked at Harry Potter. "I'm afraid," he whispered to the boy who feared nothing—the boy he had spent the last fifteen years trying to destroy—the boy whose parents he had killed, making him an orphan like himself.

Their eyes met, and in those bright green orbs, there was no hatred, but understanding; no pity, but compassion; and for a fleeting moment he wanted to be the Boy Who Lived. This boy had more power than Voldemort had ever dreamed of having. Tom wanted to undo everything he had done in his life and be like this boy.

Harry Potter had not destroyed him, he realized. Tom Riddle had been the instrument of his own destruction. He had made enemies. Even those who followed him did so out of fear, not loyalty or friendship. That was the way he had wanted it. He had believed that being feared gave him power over others—the way his fear of death had given death power over him. If only he had realized that before now—before it was too late.

"I know," the boy whispered to him. "But your parents will be with you. They will keep you safe."

Could they? Would they? He looked at those strangers who had given him life. They were smiling at him encouragingly, taking his hands to walk with him across the river.

Was there anything left in him that was not evil? Was there ever a time, even as a small child, when he didn't feel anger or hatred toward the world? Love, forgiveness, compassion were unfamiliar to him. He had never loved or been loved.

"I love you, Tommy," his mother whispered, as though she had read his mind. "I've always loved you."

Tom looked into her eyes and saw truth there. He felt something unfamiliar in his chest. He gave her a small smile.

_It's justice,_ Tom thought as he squeezed his parents' hands and stepped toward the water. _This is the Water of Justice_. _I've destroyed, and now I shall be destroyed, but I will face it with courage. _And without looking back, he and his parents stepped into the river.

**(Break)**

On the island, Harry stood with the others watching as Tom and his parents crossed the river. _Let there be some good in him,_ he prayed. He felt someone take his hand and turned his head to see his first mother, Lily, smiling at him. He felt his first father James take his other hand. _This is right_, he thought, _that we should be here together on this day._

Sirius moved up to stand beside James, placing a hand on his shoulder. Remus took Lily's arm, and the five of them, whose lives had been changed so abruptly by Voldemort, stood together, watching in silence.

"I don't understand this," Sirius said softly so that only they could hear him. "This man almost destroyed the Wizarding world. He destroyed your family, killed thousands of people, and we're standing here giving him a send-off like some sort of hero."

Harry smiled. "Voldemort held on to old wounds and desired revenge for his pain. He thought that power could prevent him from being hurt again. If we hold on to our old wounds, we're no better than Voldemort."

"He's like a wounded child," Lily said. "He may have grown into a man, a monster even, but he didn't grow out of his childish belief that hurting others would heal his own pain."

"Look," Remus said, nodding toward the river. "He's completely submerged."

For the next several minutes, silence fell on the island as the crowd kept their eyes on the still water to see if Tom Riddle would emerge. At last, a man slowly came out of the water and walked onto the shore of the Summerland. When he turned, they saw that it was Tom Riddle's father. He leaned over the water and held out his hand, reaching for someone. A moment later, his wife emerged. Together, they stood on the shore, hand-in-hand, waiting for their son.

And then, slowly, a small head of black hair came out of the water, and a child stepped onto the shore. He was no more than a five-year-old. He ran to his mother and threw his arms around her, and the father wrapped them both in a warm hug.

The crowd on the island cheered, and young Tom Riddle turned to look at them. A large, childish grin spread across his face and he gave a vigorous wave to those who were cheering.

Finally, his parents took his hands, and slowly they walked up the hill and disappeared over the crest. Young Tommy Riddle was finally home.


End file.
